Dragon's Gambit: Demon Unleashed Into the Multiverse!

Over the past month, Zaiko focused on improving his Ki control. It wasn't flashy yet, but he'd gotten the basics down—enough to fly at about 60 km/h, throw weak little Ki spheres, and shape them into dumb things like triangles and cubes. 

Baby steps, really, but what bugged him the most was the colour of his Ki—a reddish black. Earthlings were supposed to have white or blue Ki. "Weird. Whatever. It works, so don't fix something that ain't wrong."

Mirko's money made things smoother—not that she had a choice or that she opposed, actually. 

Her wealth as the now 15th-ranked hero and future 5th had turned her into Zaiko's personal piggy bank/cum dump, and she was all too happy to foot the bill for everything from Overhaul's inhibitor bullets to new burner phones to replace the ones AFO had given them. 

Speaking of Mirko, Zaiko had also figured out some quirks of her biology. She was basically in heat all the time unless she got bred constantly—and even then, her body could absorb fertilized eggs to keep herself fertile 24/7. 

That made her the perfect toy: insatiable, submissive, and always ready for whatever he wanted.

Zaiko also hired a shady Japanese criminal with a pretty sick quirk. The guy specialized in training spies to learn languages at hyperspeed. 

With just a few hours of intense exposure, he rewired Violet's brain to understand and speak fluent Japanese. Zaiko didn't care how much it cost—having Violet be able to talk shit directly to people's faces was priceless. 

After the training, Violet celebrated by teaching the guy a lesson in old-school Red Ribbon brutality when he dared to ask for a bonus. She lit his desk on fire and threatened to shove the ashes somewhere the sun wouldn't shine.

And so. Today was the start of a new move in Zaiko's plan. He was sitting in the lounge of a sleek office building Mirko had rented for her hero agency, Red Ribbon—a name Violet had suggested with a smirk. 

The building was nice, though it reeked of corporate polish that Violet couldn't stand. 

Mirko, now proudly wearing a red leather leash engraved with "Bunny " in gold letters alongside her hero uniform, had insisted on making it her base of operations. 

This was fine by Zaiko, who was starting to get bored of living and fucking in Mitsuki's place every day; it would be nice to hire her, too, though...

Zaiko stopped daydreaming when his gaze moved to Violet's ass; he wore his usual red tank top and black pants, while Violet wore her classic Red Ribbon Army uniform, complete with a cigarette dangling lazily from her lips.

"Who'd you rope in for these internships again?" Violet asked, blowing a cloud of smoke.

Sitting at Zaiko's feet on all fours, Mirko glanced up at him before answering. "All the girls at U.A. but only four said yes." Violet snorted. "Figures."

A knock echoed through the room before the conversation could go any further. The sound was sharp, followed by a voice full of refinement. Violet flicked her cigarette toward an ashtray.

"Go," she said, jerking her head toward Zaiko. Zaiko smirked, yanking Mirko's leash. "Come on, Bunny," he said, tugging her towards his office. 

Mirko followed obediently, her ass swaying as she crawled behind him. Before stepping through the door, she shot Violet a teasing wink. Violet just rolled her eyes.

The door swung open moments later, and the U.A. girls stepped inside. Ochaco Uraraka, Momo Yaoyorozu, Kyoka Jiro, and Tsuyu Asui entered the lounge, each dressed in their hero uniforms.

Violet sized them up, her sharp blue eyes taking in every detail. She didn't bother standing, leaning back in her chair and puffing smoke lazily.

"Alright, kids," Violet said, her voice tinged with mock boredom. "Take a seat. The boss'll see you when he's ready."

The girls exchanged glances before sitting. Ochaco, ever the chatterbox, broke the silence first.

"Wow, this place is nice!" she said, her brown eyes sparkling. "I mean, it's not what I expected from Mirko, but it's still really cool; I haven't seen an office so big; my dad works at a pretty small office, and he only hands out coffee, and..."

Momo nodded, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "It does have a certain... refined aesthetic. I'm curious to see what kind of agency she runs."

Jiro leaned back in her seat, fiddling with the earphone jacks hanging from her earlobes. "Yeah, because 'refined' is totally what comes to mind when you think of Mirko. What's next, All Might running a flower shop?"

Tsuyu tilted her head, her wide eyes blinking slowly. "Ribbit. I'm just here to learn. Don't really care what the place looks like. Ribbit"

Violet snorted, taking another drag from her cigarette. "Well, aren't you an interesting mix of anything? Just sit tight, kiddos. The boss doesn't like to be rushed."

Ochaco shifted nervously, glancing at the closed office door. "What's he like? I mean, Mirko's amazing, so he must be, like, super cool, right?"

Violet smirked. "Oh, he's something, alright. You'll see soon enough."

Violet leaned back further as the girls exchanged nervous and curious glances, her smirk widening. They looked at Zaiko's age, so it would be fun to see their reactions.

After about an hour, Mirko finally stepped out of Zaiko's office, looking more relaxed than she had any right to be. 

Tsuyu and Momo noticed immediately. It wasn't hard—not with the lingering scent of sex and hormones clinging to her. 

Tsuyu's animal-quirk senses made it obvious to notice the hormones leaking off Mirko, while Momo's filthy mind filled in the blanks, leaving her cheeks slightly flushed.

Mirko cleared her throat and addressed the group. "Alright, the boss is ready for you. Head on in."

As Ochaco, Momo, Jiro, and Tsuyu shuffled toward the office, Mirko flopped down onto the couch beside Violet, pulling out the shiny new Plimendo Switch she'd picked up earlier. 

"Feel like getting wrecked in Smash Pros Brawl?" she asked, a grin spreading across her face.

Violet raised an eyebrow, flicking her cigarette toward the ashtray. "Wrecked? That's rich coming from you. Boot it up."

As the two got lost in button-mashing and trash talk, the girls filed into Zaiko's office. 

Inside, Zaiko leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head as he rested his feet over his desk. His red tank top was oddly wet and hugged to his chest, and his crimson eyes scanned the group as they entered. 

He looked young—too young to run an agency—but that only added to the intrigue around him.

"Take a seat," he said, motioning to the chairs across from him.

The girls settled in, their eyes flicking between Zaiko's face and his ridiculously toned chest, which was partly visible through his wet tank top. 

Tsuyu and Momo, in particular, seemed to linger on him a little too long, though only Zaiko caught the subtle glances.

"I'm Akagi Diavolo," he said, his voice steady and casual. "I run the place. Violet's already filled you in on the basics with the mail she sent you, but let me break it down for you. This isn't your typical hero agency. We do things differently here."

He slid a stack of papers across the desk. "Fill these out—name, quirk, and what you want out of this internship. Nothing complicated."

The girls picked up their pens and got to work. Ochaco scribbled furiously, clearly taking it way too seriously. 

Jiro leaned back in her seat, filling hers out lazily with quick, sharp movements. Tsuyu wrote steadily, her face as unreadable as ever. 

Momo seemed distracted, sneaking glances at Zaiko every few seconds as her mind wandered to places that definitively weren't professional.

Zaiko collected the forms when they were done, flipping through them quickly. "Alright, here's the deal," he said. "You will train with me during the day—all physical. Evenings, you'll patrol with Mirko. Got it?"

Jiro raised a hand, her tone sceptical. "What kind of training are we talking about?" Zaiko smirked. "The kind that'll make you wish you'd stayed in bed and never woke up in the first place. You either improve, or you don't."

Ochaco hesitated before raising her hand. "And, um… what happens if we mess up, what if we don't improve?"

Zaiko leaned forward, his red eyes locking onto hers. "You don't. If you're here, you've got what it takes. Just show up and do the work."

That seemed to satisfy them. Once everything was clear, Zaiko waved them off. "Alright, dismissed. Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow's gonna be rough."

As they filed out, Zaiko's phone buzzed on the desk. He picked it up, raising an eyebrow when he saw Mitsuki's name. He answered with a grin.

"Hey, Mitsuki. What's up?" There was a pause on the other end before she spoke. "Zaiko, I was wondering… Would you consider letting me work at the agency? I just—I feel like I could be helpful."

Zaiko chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "You? At the agency? Sure, why not. Come by tomorrow, and we'll figure it out."

"Really? Okay. Thanks, Zaiko," she said, relief clear in her voice.

He hung up and set the phone down, his smirk returning. Everything was coming together. The interns, the agency, and now Mitsuki—all lining up perfectly. 

"Tomorrow's gonna be fun," he muttered, leaning back with a satisfied sigh; as Zaiko saw Violet's signal that everyone had left the building, he screamed at Mirko to come into his office since his cock was dry.